Size / / /

1.

Long-armed now, hard-boned

and wingless, I'm

a woman grown. Now,

not never, I live

above ground. I don't have any children.

There's a man in this bed I might love

if he could believe

where I've been,

in the hot island of my skin

torn by wet and dirty arrows—

if he could know why I'm done

with the twill of being a girl,

with my hands drifting down

to dust the fine sleeves of boys

who want flight

from me and the fierce light

my stories gave them, want back

their first black wings.

2.

Rope coils into my wrists and I'm

in the ship again, pressed

to the sweat of blurry pirates, the heat

of their fictional whispers

draining down my hair.

For what I've wanted

Tink wants me dead: her thin

light glares into my soft ribs.

Her glass wings hum for my blood.

My brothers twist on the bench

opposite, gagged and retching.

Peter's missing. Our mother is another country

and we've burned the map.

The boys lift their bound

arms to me. They are mine.

3.

Peter once said I made that world. I lie

with it: guilt simmers my dreams,

seeps out in pain along my arms

when I wake forgetting

I'm home, forgetting why rain

is coming down outside

but my body's by a man's, and bone dry.

Sometimes I look across the sheet

at his sweet flesh and can't stay.

Some days my skin hurts

against anything in this world.

4.

I think now I was meant to be the clock

in the crocodile, to claim warm minutes

in the story's gut,

in the boneless dark

alone, and later,

with Hook beside me—

a kind of matrimony. We'd

lie together. In that center

I'd stop pretending the world

wasn't a mess of salt and hunger

winding down. Our words

would taste metallic, breaking

in the acids of desire. We'd be like

my heart, dirty and wild, counting

inside a body turning away from story,

dipping under the sea.




Sally Rosen Kindred (sallyrk@gmail.com), author of No Eden (Mayapple Press, 2011), has had poems in Blackbird and on Verse Daily, and forthcoming in Quarterly West and Hunger Mountain. She has held fellowships from the Maryland State Arts Council and the Virginia Center for Creative Arts. Read more at www.sallyrosenkindred.com and in Best New Poets 2009: 50 Poems from Emerging Writers, edited by Kim Addonizio (Meridian/UVA Press).
Current Issue
16 Sep 2019

A child falls. A raven feeds. A valravn flies away.
By: Marie Brennan
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
In this episode of the Strange Horizons podcast, editor Anaea Lay presents Marie Brennan's “This Is How.”
abandoned but whole, and full, and drenched with the perfumes of summer nights and rose-hush
By: Hester J. Rook
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: Hester J. Rook
In this episode of the Strange Horizons podcast, editor Ciro Faienza presents Hester J. Rook's “Stepping the Path Trod by the Moon,” as read by the poet themselves.
I have always loved admiring classical paintings. Namely, Rembrandt and Klimt.
Friday: The Green and Growing by Erin K. Wagner 
Issue 9 Sep 2019
By: Shiv Ramdas
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: Sarah Shirley
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
31 Aug 2019
Brazil Special Issue call for fiction submissions!
Issue 26 Aug 2019
By: Cynthia So
Podcast read by: Cynthia So
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 19 Aug 2019
By: S. R. Mandel
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
Issue 12 Aug 2019
By: Niyah Morris
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: Dante Luiz
Art by: Em Allen
By: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: Rasha Abdulhadi
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 5 Aug 2019
By: Aisha Phoenix
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: Alexandra Seidel
Podcast read by: Alexandra Seidel
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
31 Jul 2019
We're all so very excited to put your funds and good faith to use, providing a platform for voices⁠ new and international, creative and resisting.
Issue 29 Jul 2019
22 Jul 2019
As of July 21st, we are FULLY FUNDED with all of the fund drive content unlocked.
Issue 22 Jul 2019
By: Sionnain Buckley
Podcast read by: Sionnain Buckley
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Load More
%d bloggers like this: